


A Second Look

by TsaritsaElena



Series: Twice Upon a Time [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Daddy Issues, Family, Family Issues, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Marital Problems, Paradigm Shift, Second Chances, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2492879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsaritsaElena/pseuds/TsaritsaElena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 1983 and Howard Stark is a genius, millionaire, businessman, founder of a clandestine organization, and workaholic above all else. Saving the world and running a successful company are full-time jobs; there’s not a minute to spare. When an Asgardian artifact forces Howard to take a break from his normal routine, he begins to learn that there are more important things in life, even more important than running an organization meant to save the world. </p><p>A companion fic to <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1028834/chapters/2048751">Twice Upon a Time</a></i>, told from Howard’s point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic won’t make any sense if you haven’t read Twice Upon a Time, so please read that first. If you’re still here, I must warn you that you won’t like this fic unless you’re a fan of Howard Stark, and even here he’s a pretty unlikeable character for about half the fic.
> 
> Originally this was supposed to be a series of vignettes showing one or two “behind the scenes” situations when Howard isn’t with Tony. Well, that didn’t quite happen. Oops. I hope fans of _Twice Upon a Time_ and of Howard will enjoy it regardless.
> 
> I’m shooting for weekly, Friday updates and I’m hoping all of you will keep me on task. ;)
> 
>  **Warnings for:** Homophobia discussed in detail, verbal child abuse (on screen), discussions/mentions of physical child abuse (Howard) and of child neglect (Tony), accidental forced coming out, Avengers mission-related violence, and slightly intoxicated piloting of the Iron Man suit.
> 
>  **A Note on Canon:** This fic is canon-compliant up to _Iron Man 3_. It is not canon-compliant with _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ , _Agent Carter_ , or any subsequent movies.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don’t own any of these characters or copyrighted material, and I’m certainly not making any money or other material profit off of this fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

The intercom to Howard’s basement workshop buzzed, followed by Jarvis’ dulcet tones. “Mr. Stark, an Agent Blake is here to see you. He comes on the order of Deputy Director Fury.”

Howard pressed the intercom button without looking up from his schematics. “Send him down to the workshop, Jarvis.”

He managed to fit in a few more alterations to his design before Agent Blake announced his arrival with a knock. Howard reluctantly put aside his sketches and opened the door.

“Agent Blake, sir,” the gangly looking man announced, holding out his hand for Howard to shake.

He took it slowly, getting a good look at Blake while he did. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty-four, still young, wide-eyed, and innocent. The gofer for Fury. “Howard Stark, but you knew that. Come in. What is it from Fury this time?” Agent Blake held open a box of—“Rocks? Fury wants me to look at _rocks_?” Granted, they were crystalline but still. _Rocks?_

“Preliminary tests run by scientists at headquarters have uncovered that they contain an energy signature similar to the Tesseract,” Agent Blake explained. “Since you’re the foremost expert on the Tesseract—”

“—he wants me to take a look,” Howard finished, annoyed. Good God, when _wasn’t_ Peggy’s future replacement giving him work to do?! He was going to have to talk to Peggy about all of this. Nick had him working on the flying car, the Winter Soldier Project, and now _this?_ On top of it all, Howard and Obadiah had a meeting with the military in a _week_ for the new missile design that he was still tweaking. _And_ the deadline before product roll-out for the latest model of Stark cellular phone was looming large and couldn’t be missed! (Word on the street was that Motorola planned to launch their new phone around the same time and he’d be damned if Motorola got the drop on Stark Industries!)

Howard fumed as he told the agent, “Fury’s got some nerve sending this over. I’ve already got two of his pet projects on my plate. It’s going to take me another two months before I can look at this properly!” By the end he was shouting but he felt bad when the kid shrunk back from him. “I’m not mad at you, kid.” Blake just happened to be the messenger. Calming down but still annoyed, he fiddled with his moustache and put his hands on his hips, deciding he needed to draw the line with Nick. “Look, if he wants the timetable on these... _crystals_ moved up, he can come here himself to ask and to personally explain which of the other two projects he wants on hold. Tell Fury that’s my reply.”

“Yes, sir!” Agent Blake drew himself up to attention.

“We’re done here. You can go.” Howard gestured dismissively and Agent Blake let himself out, no doubt relieved to be away from him. Just as he was about to turn back to his schematics for the missile design—he really needed to get that done _today_ so the prototype could go to the factory tomorrow once he faxed it over—when the door opened again. “ _What!_ ” he snarled, thinking Agent Blake had come back for something.

“Howard, dear?” came a soft, feminine voice.

“Maria!” he exclaimed as he turned around to face her. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he felt badly for snapping at her, but his stress and anxiety covered it up. Howard had a lot on his plate and his wife was just another interruption right now. Worse, she _knew_ she wasn’t supposed to disturb him when he was down here! “What do you want? You know I’m busy.”

“I know, but I saw that man leave and I thought I’d catch you before you got back to work,” she explained, looking chastised for interrupting him.

“Very well,” he sighed. “What is it?”

“Tony’s school sent out an invitation a few weeks ago. They’re having _Family Day_ this weekend. It’s an autumn festival and an invitation for parents to visit and tour the campus. I’m going to visit Tony and I thought—I thought you might want to go, too.”

“Why would I want to do _that_? Can’t you see I’m busy here?” He couldn’t get a minute alone to finish _anything_.

“I’m sure Tony would like to see you.”

“And I’d like to have about ten extra hours in a day for it!” Howard scoffed. He would have liked the time for it but he was just too overworked. “Tony will live without a visit from me. Stark men are—” Howard cut himself off. Had he really almost said, “Stark men are made of iron?” That was the sort of thing his father would have said to him. Jesus. He didn’t want to go down that road. Softening his tone, he changed his tact. “Tony doing okay? That nanny still doing her job? When was the last time Jarvis went to see him?”

“Two weeks ago, while I was in Kitsbühel with the girls. He said Tony was fine.”

Howard nodded. “Good.” Apart from Maria, Jarvis was the only person Howard completely trusted with his son. Besides, someone needed to keep the nannies in line. “Look, I’m too busy, Maria. Company stuff, you understand. Go see Tony without me. Give him my regards.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding, but he could see the disappointment in her face and so he looked away.

“I’d better get back to my work.”

“Right. I’ll—come down with lunch in a few hours.”

Howard grunted in the affirmative, his back turned to her. He heard the click of the door as Maria closed it on her way out but his attention was already back to the mountains of work he had on his hands and how he was going to juggle all of it.

Absently, he leaned on his workbench and pulled the box of crystals closer. He picked one up and examined it, turning it around in his hand this way and that, taking note of the structure. It looked ordinary enough, just like a piece of colored quartz, but looks were deceiving and Howard knew he would have to do more test readings if he was going to get information out of the crystals.

All of a sudden his hand felt warm. Moving the crystal from hand to hand, Howard realized with a frown that the heat was radiating from the stone, not from him. Then, the unexpected happened. The crystal began to _glow_. Startled, Howard dropped the stone but the glowing didn’t stop.

At first the white light was dim but in a matter of seconds it became blindingly bright, engulfing the room until there was nothing else. Howard couldn’t see a _thing_ with all the white light. There was one dark spot in the room, over by where Howard guessed the door was. Instinctively, he moved toward the dark spot but just when he was about to reach it, he stumbled, as if someone had pushed him from behind. Then, he was falling.

Howard felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from his immediate surroundings as he tried to gulp in air like a fish on land tried to gulp in water. Meanwhile, he was still in free fall which didn’t make _any_ sense; he should have hit the floor by now. A thick cloud of smoke surrounded him and finally he hit the floor with a loud _BANG!_ Struggling for air, he took another breath. This time oxygen flooded back into his lungs. Howard coughed until he could get his breathing under control.

He staggered as he stood up, taking in his surroundings as the smoke cleared. He was in some kind of laboratory facility if the equipment and set-up was anything to go by. Two men were also present and both looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see them.

A woman followed by another man strode in purposefully, looking for all the world like SHIELD agents outfitted for a mission. Howard suspected she was dangerous and he realized he would have to tread carefully if he didn’t want to be shot at in the next five seconds. The woman addressed the two men, “What’s the situation? We heard a bigger-than-usual explosion coming from in here.”

One of them gestured to Howard and the group turned to him as a whole. Once the woman got a good look, she added, “Well this is unexpected.”

Howard could only think the same.


	2. Chapter 1: Steve I

Most men time-traveling to the future in a freak accident powered by alien magic would have been stunned silly by the experience. But Howard Stark had split the atom, helped create a Super Soldier, and seen Hydra technology powered by the Tesseract, so the time-traveling thing didn’t faze him too much. The Artificial Intelligence butler based on Jarvis was what unnerved him the most. Tony’s initial refusal to work with Howard was also irritating, but Howard had bigger fish to fry than a silly grievance from his son, namely the return of one _Captain America_ to the land of the living.

They were in Steve’s private apartment, a space decorated with dark wood, warm colors, and an expansive view of Manhattan’s breathtaking skyline, but Howard couldn’t take his eyes off Steve, who was in the process of pouring them both drinks.

Steve handed him a glass of Scotch, on the rocks, and Howard marveled that Steve still remembered. Then again, he really shouldn’t have been surprised; the Super Soldier Serum had enhanced Steve’s cognitive functions tremendously and left him with an incredible memory.

“I gotta say, Howard,” Steve began as they sat down, Steve on the couch and Howard in a leather armchair, “I was disappointed when I woke up in the future. They briefed me on this century’s technology but all I kept thinkin’ was: _‘Where’s my flyin’ car?_ ’” He finished with a smirk. Howard laughed.

“They’re trickier than you think!” Howard tried to defend himself. “My prototype, Lola, is a finicky girl. She gets mad at me if I don’t give her enough attention. But I’m getting close. I only need to make a few adjustments and she’ll be ready to go.” That is, when he had time to go in to HQ and make those tweaks.

“Good. ‘Cause I wanna try her out.”

He knew Steve was trying to keep the mood light but there was no way to get around the elephant in the room. The two of them fell silent, drinks in hand as a tension crept into the room.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Howard finally said.

“When I first got outta the ice, I couldn’t believe it myself.” Steve shook his head.  
  
Howard had always theorized that the Super Soldier Serum could have kept Captain America in a cryogenic state until he was found—it was part of the reason he had arranged for an annual arctic expedition that he personally attended, no matter how old he was getting. It was ostensibly for scientific research and indeed, grants were awarded annually to researchers for the trips, but anyone who knew Howard knew the real reason he always went: to look for Steve Rogers.

Howard’s hand hovered close to Steve’s arm. He wanted to reach out and touch it, to make sure Steve was real, not a ghost. Steve sensed what he wanted and clapped his own hand on Howard’s shoulder, tacitly giving Howard permission to do the same with him. Howard closed the distance and felt Steve’s bicep under his touch, the warmth of his body radiating out.

Steve laughed first. “Looks like we’re both havin’ trouble believin’ what we’re seein’. Thought you were a ghost at first.”

“No ghost, it’s only me.” Howard flashed him a wry grin. “It’s been so long. I’ve looked for you for _so long_ , Steve. When do I _find_ you?” But when Steve struggled to answer, shifting in his seat, he knew. “I don’t.” His face crumpled and he let his hand fall. “I don’t find you.” Howard ran a hand through his hair but then buried his face in his hands. “God fucking _damn it_ , I searched all those years and I never found you. Who did? When?”

“Two years ago,” Steve forced out, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “It was an accident. Some oil explorers found me and called SHIELD in.”

For years, Howard had diligently searched for Steve Rogers—dead or alive—but to know that Steve had been found through sheer luck, and to know it had happened after he passed away was heartbreaking. All of that work, for nothing. “How did they get you out? I mean, how did they unfreeze you without compromising your internal system’s functions?”

A flash of insight crossed Steve’s features as he realized something. “Actually, SHIELD said _you_ did! Said you had a theory about it and you worked on a serum to unfreeze me.”

“ _Oh._ Yes, I started one last year but it’s not finished and I’ve been too busy to work on it.” Another project fallen by the wayside as his workload piled up and Howard struggled to keep up, feeling himself grow older by the day. “I guess I need to work on that, huh?”

“I’d appreciate it,” Steve deadpanned and Howard laughed again. Still, he was having a hard time accepting that he’d never find Steve Rogers in the Arctic. If he could just find out...

“So uh, where did you say they found you again?” he asked Steve, trying to sound casual.

Steve saw right through him. “Nice try. I know what you’re thinking but I can’t tell you that.”

Howard slumped forward again. “It was worth a try.” He played with the tumbler of Scotch in his hands. “I never stopped looking, you know.”

“I know. Tony told me as much.” Steve looked down into his own glass.

Ah. Tony. His son, who would rather not be in the same room as him, much less work on the time machine with him. Howard didn’t understand it. He could hardly get ‘his’ Tony—the twelve year-old (or was he thirteen now?) version—to leave him alone when Tony came home on school breaks. He thought his son would _jump_ at the prospect of working on a project like this together. Truth be told, it rather hurt that Tony, his own son, didn’t want to spend time with him, but he pushed it away, trying not to think about it too hard.

Howard had to admit, there were a lot of things he didn’t understand about his son, who was all grown up and _older than Steve_ at this point. Tony was running Stark Industries successfully enough to have built a skyscraper tall enough to rival the Empire State Building and the World Trade Center. “So, uh,” Howard cast about for another topic. “You said Tony built this place?”

Steve perked up at that. “Yeah. With his own two hands, no less!” At Howard’s quizzical look, Steve hastened to explain. “He uh, he has this suit. It makes him stronger and he can fly in it so he helped with some of the heavy lifting. Or so I’m told.”

“Are you kidding me? It _flies_?” Howard repeated, incredulous.

“Uh, yeah. But it’s not a construction suit! Jeeze, I’m not explainin’ this right.” Steve took a breath and started again, “SHIELD’s got me heading a special forces team.” He paused. “You ever heard of the Avengers Initiative?”

“The Avengers Initiative? Nick’s pet project? He keeps bugging Peggy about it, but the World Council’s having none of it. They finally got that off the ground?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Took a while to get us goin’—big alien invasion in New York I probably can’t talk to you about—but now we’re up and running as a team of six. There’s me, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce, whom you all met earlier. And of course Tony.”

Howard’s eyebrows shot up. “Tony? _Tony_ is part of the Avengers Initiative? But what could he do?”

The corners of Steve’s mouth turned down almost imperceptibly before his expression cleared. “That’s what I’m tellin’ ya. Tony flies the Iron Man suit! It’s equipped with weapons for a fight and it makes him stronger. When Tony’s in the suit, he can rival me in a sparring match.”

Wow! Even if he had found Steve in the ice, Howard could have never imagined that his son would grow up to be on _Captain America’s_ team, fighting side-by-side. He had to admit, he was _proud_ of Tony for it. “That’s my boy, fighting for Captain America.” He glowed with pride. “I bet Tony was _thrilled_ when you picked him to be on your team. That’s why he built the suit, right? To impress you?” Tony _loved_ Captain America when he was younger and Howard would bet that he’d do anything to work alongside Steve, including dreaming up a mechanized fighting suit.

“Ah... not exactly. He built the suit a while before they woke me up. It’s kind of a long story but the point is, he’s on the team with me.”

“What’s the story? I think I have the time for it.” After all, he was, officially—and wasn’t this weird—a time traveler.  
  
Steve shook his head. “I think this is one of those things I can’t tell you about. I got a feelin’ you would try to go back in time and change it, which would change where we are now. I gotta be careful with what I can tell ya ‘bout the future.”

“Oh, come on, Rogers! I won’t try to change anything,” Howard wheedled.

Steve wouldn’t budge. “I know you, Howard. Enough to know that’s a load of crock.”

“So you can’t tell me anything? I thought you said were going to tell me about the Dodgers’ season this year!”  
  
“Oh, well _that_ I can tell you if you can go back in time and keep them from moving to L.A.!”

Howard smiled sadly. “I thought of you when they did move. I knew you’d hate it.”

Steve nodded. “I usually root for the Mets. Except when they’re playing the Dodgers. Then all bets are off! And it’s not all bad. Tony, he—well, I can fly to LA if I really want to see a game. By the way, the Dodgers are doin’ fine. It’s your Yankees who’re in trouble,” he said with glee. “Oh! Let me tell ya, Howard, you know how the Red Sox haven’t won a World Series since 1918?”

He gasped, eyes wide with shock. “No! You don’t mean—”

Steve nodded gravely. “Yup,” he said, popping the “p.” “They broke the curse in 2004. And defeated the Yankees a bunch a’ times since then!”

Howard moaned dramatically, even though he wasn’t _that_ big of a Yankees fan. It was a matter of local pride, more than anything. “No more. I don’t want to know any more about the future!”

Steve laughed. “Good. Now, enough about me. I wanna hear about you.”

“But you already _know_ what happened to me,” Howard protested. Including, he’d wager, his death.

“The history books only have the highlights, not the details.” A beat, and then Steve went on, “I couldn’t believe it when they told me you got _married_. _Didn’t_ believe it until they showed me the pictures! We all thought you’d stay a bachelor forever. _You_ said you’d stay a bachelor forever!”

“What can I say? I met the right woman.”

“Tell me about her,” Steve said earnestly.

Howard’s stomach flopped. He had a lot of emotions about his wife. He still _loved_ her deeply—Maria was so graceful and smart and capable of anything—but he was under no illusions about his _marriage_ , which had fallen apart a long time ago and he was ashamed to admit as much to Steve. “She’s wonderful. Playful. Smart. One in a million.”

“Man, you got it bad.”

Howard ducked his head. “She’s exceedingly clever. I’ll never admit it to anyone besides you, but Tony only gets half his smarts from me—Maria’s a genius in her own right. She has a sharp tongue, too. I’m one hundred percent sure he gets that from her.”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that. You’ve got the gift of gab yourself. Pretty sure Tony gets that from both of you. And I know exactly who he gets his love of technology from.”

Howard laughed. Okay, Steve had a point there. Building the Iron Man suit, designing the futuristic Stark Tower, and creating an artificial intelligence with the voice of Jarvis were all pretty damn impressive feats from his son. Speaking of which, “So what’s with the artificial intelligence who sounds like my butler?”

“Oh, you mean JARVIS. He... runs the house, is the best way to put it. JARVIS, say hello.” Steve tilted his head upward toward the ceiling.

“Greetings, Mr. Stark. Although we’ve spoken, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” said a voice coming from the walls. Howard guessed that miniature speakers were embedded in them.

“Hello, JARVIS,” Howard replied, also looking up toward the ceiling. “I must say, it’s unnerving how much you sound like my butler.”

“Mr. Stark, that is, your son, is my creator. I believe he had your butler’s voice recorded and the individual sounds synthesized with an algorithm to enable me to speak more naturally.”

When he thought about it, Tony had always been close with Jarvis, so that made sense, actually. “Steve says you run the house. What can you do?”

JARVIS and Steve spent the next hour explaining the AI’s capabilities, at one point getting sidetracked on a discussion of how JARVIS helped Tony pilot the Iron Man suit, before returning to more mundane commands, such as adjusting room lighting and temperature, which would be useful to Howard while living in the tower.

After that, Steve showed Howard the advancements made in computers over the last 30 years or so and demonstrated how to work with a touch-screen tablet. Unsurprisingly, Howard took to the tech like a duck to water, intuitively grasping how the commands worked as he went along. Time passed quickly and before they knew it, JARVIS’ voice announced that dinner was ready.

“Team Bonding Night,” Steve explained as they headed downstairs. It was be the first time Howard had the chance to really talk to his son. He wondered with some anticipation what that would be like, given Tony’s reaction to Howard this afternoon. He supposed he was going to find out now, whether he wanted to or not.

 

After dinner and the movie, Howard returned to the guestroom in Steve’s apartment, thinking to himself that the night had gone well. The men—and woman—on Steve’s team were friendly enough. For that matter, so was Tony’s employee, Ms. Potts, and he wondered briefly if the two were involved with each other romantically, given their familiarity with each other over the course of the evening. For his part, Tony seemed to have reigned in his temper, behaving civilly for the time being. Yes, things had not gone badly between father and son that evening.

That was until Steve came in not long after, which a much different outlook on the night.

“You didn’t have to be so hard on your son.”

Howard looked up from his physics reading on the tablet Tony had given him. “What?”

“Tony. You don’t have to be so hard on him.”

Howard looked at him oddly. What was Steve talking about?

“ _‘You know, Tony, it never occurred to me that you **just** might be able to work for SHIELD one day_ ,’” Steve mimicked in Howard’s voice. “You don’t think that might have been insulting to Tony?”

Howard blinked. “...No?”

“Let me try again.” This time Steve repeated himself with all the sarcasm he could muster, and Steve was a master of sarcasm when he wanted to be.

Howard’s eyes widened. “That not what I meant! I was _surprised_ , that’s all. Tony, I mean, Tony from my time is _thirteen_ —it never occurred to me to tell him that SHIELD existed, let alone think that he would grow up to be part of the Avengers Initiative.  I never meant to imply that I didn’t think he _could_ do it.”

“Don’t you think you should tell him that?”

“He didn’t say anything at dinner. I’m sure he understood me just fine,” Howard waved him off.

“Somehow I doubt it.”

Howard rolled his eyes. “Even if he didn’t, I can’t coddle him, Steve. There are people out there who will—and probably _do_ —intentionally say worse things to him because he’s the CEO of Stark Industries. He needs to learn to be tough if he wants to survive in this world.”

“He gets enough criticism alright, from competitors, employees, and the media, but he doesn’t need it from his father.” Steve shook his head. “You know what? Forget it. I can’t imagine time travelling is much easier than being frozen for 70 years. You’ve had a long day. Maybe you’ll see things differently in the morning.”

“Alright.” Howard shrugged mentally, happy to let the topic go for what he thought of as a non-issue.

Steve swiftly changed the topic, working out a time for them to visit the Triskelion tomorrow for a full debriefing with Nick Fury. Afterwards, Steve said goodnight and excused himself, citing some SHIELD paperwork he needed to get done. Howard turned back to his tablet and continued to make his way through the reading list Tony had compiled; if he ever wanted to figure out a way to get back to 1983, he had to start somewhere.

 

The following day, Steve drove Howard to the Triskelion, where they ran into Tony, who was on his way out.

“Steve, Dad.” Tony acknowledged both of them with a nod. He addressed Howard, “Meet us in the lab at one o’clock. Dr. Foster will be there by then and we can begin work on figuring out how to get you back to 1983.”

“I’ll be there,” Howard replied, feeling weird. Try as he might, he’d only been here for a day and it still felt odd to see his son all grown up and in charge, giving orders and arranging meetings. It was going to take some getting used to.

After Tony left, Steve showed Howard to Fury’s office. He was surprised at first but he should have guessed that Nick would take Peggy’s old office. Steve waited in the hallway while Howard went inside. Nick gestured to the chair in front of his desk and Howard took a seat.

“Bet this place looks real different from the last time you saw it.”

Howard nodded, looking around. It was odd to see the walls adorned with new pictures and maps, the desk moved to a different wall than where it had been in Peggy’s time. It wasn’t just the office that was different, however. Nick was too, and in more than just his age. The man Howard knew as Nick Fury was younger, less self-assured, and eager to bring change and innovation to SHIELD. The man Howard saw now was still just as smart as he ever was, but with equal measures of confidence and world-weariness that only came with running an international spy agency for over a decade and a half.

“Look at you,” he said. “You’re not Peggy’s protégé anymore. You’re finally in charge as the Director of SHIELD! Have you been treating my baby right?”

Nick snorted. “SHIELD’s not your baby anymore. We’ve had some stumbles but yeah, things could be worse. Much worse. I like to think we’re doing an okay job.” Nick plucked a file from his desk and handed it to Howard. “I have an assignment for you.”

When he opened it, he knew what it was immediately. “The Winter Soldier project?” Howard looked up in surprise. Even in 1983, the project to track down the Winter Soldier, the Soviets’ best assassin, had been going on for decades. “Please tell me you haven’t been working on it all this time.”

Nick shook his head. “No. In 1983, _YOU_ told me to put it on hold until this year. So I did. You said I’d know when I was supposed to open the file again.” He gave Howard a knowing look.

“Huh,” Howard said, fascinated with how time-travel worked. It was obvious he had told Nick to put it on hold _after_ they successfully built a time machine and sent him back to 1983. Well, at least he had some proof that he was even able to build a time machine and return to his time in the first place. Tossing the file back onto the table he said, “You want me to work on this now?”

“When you’re not figuring out how to send yourself back in time, that is.”

“Sure. But this is going to take some time. Do I get any assistance with this one?”

Nick nodded. “Ms. Romanoff is assigned to the case. She has a personal history with the Winter Soldier.” Howard raised an eyebrow but Nick didn’t elaborate further. “That’s her story to tell. Good luck trying to get it from her.”

There was something in his voice that didn’t bode well for Howard. He had met Ms. Romanoff briefly the night before during “Team Bonding Night” and she seemed normal enough. What was Nick not telling him?

Well, no matter. It was obvious that Howard’s time-travelling self had assigned him to work on this, and who was he to refuse his own genius mind?

“Okay, sure. You got it,” he nodded, half to Nick, half to himself, snapping the file shut. The Winter Soldier would be difficult to find, but Howard had a feeling that at least it would easier than _building a time machine_. “Is that everything you wanted to see me for?”

“Everything related to work. Why, you want more?”

“Funny, Nick,” Howard returned, rolling his eyes and thinking of the mountains of work he had waiting for him in 1983. “With all the assignments you and Peggy keep giving me, you’d think I was the only one on staff at SHIELD! So if it’s not work, what is it that you wanted to talk about?”

Nick leaned back in his chair, folded his hands, and rested them behind his head. “How’s it working out between you and your son? Are you sure you’re up to the task of working with him on building a time machine?”

Howard scowled. First Steve, now Nick. Why was everyone so invested in his relationship with Tony? Heck, they cared more about it than Howard did himself; why should he bother with it if Tony so clearly didn’t care? And what business of theirs was it, anyway?

“I guess we’ll find out this afternoon,” he replied. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him much. He was busy, yesterday.”

Nick laughed at him outright. “Wonder where he gets that from.” Nick didn’t mean _Howard_ , did he? “You do realize he gets that from you.” Okay, so he did. “Your son is the spitting image of you, Howard, in more ways than one.”

“Enlighten me.” Howard crossed his arms over his chest.

“A genius inventor with a smart mouth and a blatant disregard for the rules? Gee, wonder who that sounds like.”

Howard rolled his eyes, refusing to admit that Nick was right. “You know, Tony—my 13 year-old Tony—never leaves me alone when he’s home from school. Always wants me to work with him in the lab, even when he _knows_ I’m busy.” He couldn’t keep the resentment out of his voice as he continued, “I thought he’d _jump_ all over the chance to work on this time machine with me!”

Nick sighed and shook his head. He leaned in, and Howard could see the lines on his face and a world weariness in his eye that had emerged sometime between 1983 and now. “Let me give you some advice, Howard. Kids want to go to Disneyland when they’re 13, not when they’re 43.”

Howard stared back, unable to accept what Nick was trying to tell him. “So you’re saying he doesn’t want to spend time with his old man anymore because he’s all grown up? Not for anything?” Sure, having Tony bother him in his workshop was an annoyance when he had important work to do, but hearing the reverse from Nick made him feel sad. He _did_ want to spend time with Tony, just not... when he had real work to do.

“I didn’t say that,” said Nick carefully. “But he’s learned to live without you. Now,” he stood up abruptly, “if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment. Gotta see a woman about a bus.” He paused. “And think about what I said, Howard.”

Howard did. While he was still thinking about Nick’s advice, Howard let Nick show him out, files on the Winter Soldier in hand.

“All set?” Steve asked, pushing off the wall and going over to meet Howard as Fury retreated down the hallway.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

 

They caught lunch on the way back to the tower and then Howard headed straight to the lab for the remainder of the afternoon. He met Dr. Foster for the first time and began to brainstorm theories about time travel with her, Bruce, and Tony. It was a productive session and Howard found himself enjoying their company, pleased to be working with colleagues that communicated on his level, including his son, whom Howard realized had blossomed into adulthood with a genius that, Howard suspected, surpassed his own. Even better, his demeanor was far different than yesterday. If Tony still harbored resentment over working with Howard, it hadn’t surfaced yet.

Of course, it was then that he and Tony were summoned to Stark Industries headquarters where Ms. Potts was waiting and things sort of went to hell after that. Tony’s _surrender_ of Stark Industries to someone not in the family prompted a shouting match between the two Starks in a way that Howard could have never imagined before, not when he was still trying to come to terms with the fact that his son wasn’t 13 anymore.

He stormed out of Ms. Pott’s office, still livid over the thought of what Tony had done. He couldn’t believe it! How could Tony _do_ such a thing? Howard’s father had started SI but it didn’t take off into the big leagues until his father discovered that Howard’s “silly inventions” were the key to its booming success. For Tony to throw it all away to someone, woman or not he didn’t care, who wasn’t a _Stark_? What was he thinking? Stark Industries was Howard’s company, one that he had poured his whole _life_ into, and it felt like a betrayal.

Returning to his quarters in Steve’s apartment, he ran into the man himself, who was returning from the kitchen with a glass of milk. “What’s wrong, Howard?” Steve asked.

“My son... _handed my company_ over to someone else. Someone who isn’t a Stark! Did you know about this?” Howard accused, suspecting this was something Steve had intentionally omitted about the future.

“Ah, I did,” Steve said slowly. Guessing, he asked, “Did you... get in a fight with Tony about it?”

“We... may have had a terse exchange of words,” he grumbled

“Howard!” Steve admonished. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? Tony’s still Chairman of the Board, _and_ he runs the R &D division. He just... isn’t the CEO, that’s all.”

“I don’t care, Steve! I built that company for _him_ and he’s throwing it away!”

“Howard, be reasonable. It isn’t like he’s washed his hands of Stark Industries. He’s still very much involved in its success, just not as CEO. Tony has a lot on his plate between coming out with new tech for R&D, outfitting the Avengers for the field, and going on missions with us. You can’t expect him to still have time for overseeing all of Stark Industries.” Steve shook his head.

“I did that much during the war! When I wasn’t outfitting you, I was trying to figure out Hydra’s tech. And when I wasn’t doing that, I was calling the guys... the guys in Los Alamos,” Howard deflated, trying not to sound _proud_ of what he’d achieved with the Manhattan Project, because he wasn’t, but he wanted to get the point across.

Nonplussed, Steve merely gave him a _Look_. “And you were 25, just a year older than I was during the war. Tony is 43. You know it’s not the same.”

“Even now,” Howard insisted, “I mean, my ‘now,’ in 1983, I still work for both Stark Industries _and_ SHIELD. If I can juggle the two, why can’t he?”

“Well, you told me you don’t go on missions and you’re not the Deputy Director anymore, for one,” Steve replied, undeterred, “And for another, _Tony isn’t you_. You may have the same love of tech, the same appearance, and even have the same mannerisms—which threw me for a loop the first time I met your son—but at the core, you have different personalities.”

“What do you mean?”

Steve smiled fondly. “Howard, you like to please people, even if you try your hardest not to show it. Tony cares, but he grew up in the media and the spotlight, so he had to learn not to care so _much_. You have a habit of sticking with obligations you don’t like while Tony ignores them or finds a way around them. You can’t expect him to behave exactly as you would in the same situations.” He paused. “Look, I know this isn’t what you envisioned or planned for Tony, but he has his own life now and he’s _happy_. As his father, don’t you think that should count for something?” Just then, his phone buzzed. Steve took it out to read the text message and frowned. “I have to go. Think about what I said, will you? And look up SI’s financials when you get a chance!” he called over his shoulder while Howard watched him leave.

 

Thinking about what Steve had said and with little else to do, he did indeed look up the financials for SI using his newly found powers of Google (truly a marvel of this time). He found a number of articles in Forbes and the Wall Street Journal that complimented Ms. Potts on her successful transition of the company and its continued profits, which were now higher than ever. The articles even praised Tony for his wise decision to appoint her while smoothly stepping down as CEO and transitioning to the head of R&D. Maybe his son—

Before he could finish his thought, there was a knock on his door. He had barely said, “Come in,” before Ms. Romanoff let herself in.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, bewildered. Hastily, he added, “Not that I mind,” because that was no way to talk to a lady.

“Fury said you picked up some files from him. I thought you might need some help with them.”

“Oh.” He blinked. Howard was surprised she wanted to work on them now, but it wasn’t as though lamenting over the fate of Stark Industries was a pressing event in his calendar for the day. “Well, no time like the present,” he said, gesturing for her to take a seat.

“Have you read the files, yet?” she asked him as they both sat down in the plump leather chairs.

He shook his head. “Not yet. Been a busy day.”

“Neither have I. Fury only keeps these files in hard copy and I haven’t had a chance to plan a distraction to get into his office,” she said by way of explanation, arms crossed and her upper lip curled into a frown. “Why don’t we split up the work?” she suggested, pointing the files. “I’ll take this one, you take that, and then we’ll switch. How about it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” With that, they settled in for a long evening, reading files and becoming acquainted with the Winter Soldier’s _modus operandi._


	3. Chapter 2: Jane and Peggy

Howard and Natasha began constructing a profile of the Winter Soldier and noted patterns based on sightings of him, with the hope that it would help them predict where his next hit might be. They burned the midnight oil, pouring over the case files well into the night. It was only when he struggled to keep his eyes open that Howard called it a night and turn in after walking Natasha to the door.

When he arrived at the lab the next morning, he pulled Tony aside, leading him out into the hallway. Tony had his arms crossed and his jaw clenched while Howard tried to find his own voice, eyes darting toward the floor.  
  
Finally, he took a deep breath and admitted with chagrin, “I looked at Stark Industries' stock and its financials. Your CEO, Ms. Potts? She’s good. I'm glad you picked someone who could handle the company, son.”

Howard still disliked the idea of someone outside of the family running the company, but without a say in the matter, he had resigned himself to the outcome. He consoled himself with the fact that Ms. Potts _was_ doing a good job, and Howard recognized that Tony had known what he was doing when he appointed her.

Tony relaxed his posture and let his arms drop to his sides. He gave Howard a sharp nod but said nothing else on the matter, perhaps determined to keep the peace for now, at least. Then he gestured to the lab. “Shall we?”

Howard and Tony managed to remain civil in the lab that day, but the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the week. They bickered and argued over practically everything, from how to solve an equation—

“That should reduce to the derivative of _r_ raised to the power of _mu_ times the derivative of _r_ sub- _mu_ , Tony.”

“I got that, _Dad_ , and it further reduces to _g_ sub- _mu_ sub- _nu_ times the derivative of _r_ to the power of _mu_ times the derivative of _r_ to the power of _nu_. I think I can handle a simple metric tensor in Minkowski space-time. And I don’t need you to tell me how to solve it! I’m not an idiot, Dad!”

—to _what_ equation to use—

“Why are you using the QED equations to compute the power output instead of the Maxwell ones? That’s twice the work you’re doing and the Maxwells work just fine.”

“No they don’t, _Tony_ , not when you’re dealing with strong electric fields and observing the particle qualities of light, hence why I need the QED equations. I’d like to get back to 1983 in one piece, thanks, and I’m not taking shortcuts to do it!”  
  
“Maxwells are not a _shortcut_!”

“Tony, they're a _classical approximation_! We’re dealing with _specific_ quantum measurables. You must be precise with your calculations! You should know that.”

—to the completely absurd—

“I didn’t say I _wanted_ to build the inner plating on the optical disc with Palladium! I said it was the next best thing, since there isn’t any goddamn Vibranium left on Earth except in the shield!”

“Would you _let me finish_? As I was _going to say_ , I have a production facility upstate that’s refining the process! Cool your pants, old man, there’s enough Vibranium to go around for everyone!”

Tensions were running high and Howard felt bad admitting it, but he was beginning to dread working with his son. His only consolation was that he was sure the feeling was mutual in Tony. Howard couldn’t understand _why_ Tony had to fight him at every step. As a kid, or rather, as Howard knew him before the time travel, sure, Tony had been mischievous but never this difficult or argumentative. It was almost as though this grown up Tony was doing it on purpose, picking a fight whenever he could.

“What ever happened to RESPECTING YOUR ELDERS?” Howard shouted during an argument. “I taught you to behave better than this!”

“YOU didn’t teach me much of _anything_ growing up. You were hardly around in the first place!” Tony sneered.

Just as Howard was about to retort, Bruce stepped in.

“Guys? Can we tone it down? For my sake? Please?”

It did the trick and both Stark men straightened up, cleared their throats, and with a final glare, went back to their work.

The next day, Tony came in and handed him a printed out schedule. “These are the days I’ll be in the lab, based on my schedule with the company.” He pointed to the red highlighted squares in the mornings and afternoons on different days. “These are the days you’ll be in the lab,” highlighted in blue and, conveniently, not times Tony was in there. There were also a few rare spaces colored in purple. “These are the days that, unfortunately, we’ll both be in the lab at the same time. I propose we stay out of each other’s way, _Dad_.”

Howard resisted the urge to growl as Tony sneered. At this point he was willing to try anything to keep the peace. “ _Fine_.”

Tony told him to keep the paper and without another word, retreated to the back of the lab where Bruce was already working.

And that’s how Howard got around to spending much of his time in the lab with Jane Foster.

Howard had reached the point where it occurred to him that he could use Google to search for information about any individual, and so he had used it to look up Jane’s credentials—where she went to school, what her background was in, what kinds of articles she had published. He found what he was looking for, but he also stumbled across news articles that described an anomaly in Puente Antiguo, New Mexico, that she had been present for. Supposedly it was “a gas leak that exploded,” though Howard highly doubted it, given the descriptions of the event by locals that fit more closely with what he'd been told of Thor.

When Howard asked her, she explained how she had been researching Einstein-Rosen bridges in Puente Antiguo when Thor showed up. She recounted the incident to retrieve his hammer and SHIELD's subsequent confiscation of all of her research and equipment without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Did they ever give it back?” Howard wasn’t surprised about SHIELD confiscating the equipment; they had always operated under a “shoot first, ask questions later,” policy, but they should have given Jane her research back already, now that it was clear that she wasn’t a security threat or an evil genius of some kind.

Jane huffed and rolled her eyes. “ _Eventually_. Half of it was broken, but at least my journals were intact. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes! Then the Destroyer came to town the next day, but it was really Loki—he’s Thor’s brother—so Thor had to fight him. Thor won, but he had to go to Asgard to do it, and then I didn’t see him again until... well, this week. And now he’s on Asgard... again.” Jane sighed, the corners of her mouth turned down and her brow knitted together. She muttered, “Who knows when he’ll be back this time.”

Howard didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t exactly the comforting, let’s-talk-about-our-feelings type. He cleared his throat and instead, said, “Uh, why don’t you tell me about more about your research, Jane. What’s the next step for you, after this?”

Her eyes lit up at Howard’s question. "Oh, that's easy!" Without hesitation, she began to talk a mile a minute, explaining the spacetime anomalies she had discovered and her theories about constructing an Einstein-Rosen bridge like the Asgardians. "If _only_ I could go to Asgard _just once_ to see what the rainbow bridge looks like from their end!" she sighed. While she was _in_ love with Thor, it was clear that Jane _loved_ her research.

Her unbridled enthusiasm for wormholes and all things astrophysics was charming, delightful, and, well, rather endearing. Thor was a lucky man. If Howard was forty years younger and wasn’t married, he might have fallen for Jane himself. She was an exceptionally brilliant astrophysicist and researcher, a genius in her own right, and it didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes. In many ways, she reminded Howard of his own wife, Maria, who, although she was not trained in it, took an interest in science and had met Howard because of her interest in his research.

Of course, Howard wasn’t very close with his wife any more. Between running the company, helping Peggy with SHIELD work, and being preoccupied with his research, Howard knew he had long ago ruined whatever relationship he and Maria had ever had in the first place. He loved her still, but he wasn’t fool enough to think she might possibly return the feeling after years of his neglect.

He missed the sound of Maria's voice when she came to visit him in the lab, secretly enjoying her presence even though he should be working. He missed the scent of jasmine and peach blossoms that she would spritz on her wrists, sitting at her vanity table. He missed her quiet presence, knowing she was _there_ in the house and that he could go to her if he wanted... even though he never had. He’d taken her for granted.

Howard had _always_ taken her for granted. He knew that, but he’d never felt it more acutely than here in 2013, now that he was separated by time and space. And since Jane reminded him of Maria, the more time he spent with the brilliant astrophysicist in 2013, the more he found himself missing his wife.

“What?” Jane asked Howard plainly one day, after her had been staring after her, startled by how even the blue dress she wore seemed to remind him of Maria.

“Hmm?” he murmured absently, breaking his reverie and focusing his attention back on her.

“You’re staring at me.” Now Jane’s hands were on her hips, her jaw set, and Howard recognized that look. He’d better give her a suitable explanation, and fast.

“I didn’t mean to stare, Ms. Foster,” he explained quickly, “it’s just that, well, you remind me a lot of my wife.”

“Oh.” Jane’s eyes softened and her arms fell by her sides. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she asked, “What’s she like?”

"Amazing," Howard said absently while his mind wandered, conjuring up images and memories of Maria. He smiled fondly. “Beautiful. Charming. Clever. She loves math and science and boy, she is smart, _so smart_ —that is what I love about her the most. I didn’t get married until well into my late forties, did you know that? I thought I would be a bachelor forever. I never dreamed of meeting a woman like Maria. Until I did.”

“You must love her very much.”

He nodded. “She’s... wonderful. Tony couldn’t have a better mother. I do love her very much.” He sounded wistful as he added, “But I can’t say she feels the same about me.”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t... I haven’t been there for her, lately.” _Lately_ was an understatement. “I haven’t been there for her in a _long_ time,” he corrected, ashamed to admit it. Something about Jane’s her openness made him continue, “Stark Industries, SHIELD... work keeps me busy. We hardly ever see each other. At dinner, maybe, if I’m home for it."

"That's no way to live. You have to take off work for your wife and family _sometime_."

"I try! But... something always seems to get in the way.  Even if I did have the time, it's too late with Maria. The damage is done.” Howard scoffed at himself. “I think the last time I kissed her was at a charity fundraiser three months ago and I guess she only let me do it for show. If I were her, I wouldn't still love me.”

“But how do you _know_ she doesn’t love you anymore?” How did he know? God, Maria spent enough time away on trips with her friends, travelling to their cabin in Aspen or their summer villa in Marseilles! He assumed all of it was to get away from him and really, could he blame her for it, when he was never around? Howard always made sure there was enough money in her account for those trips; it was the very least he could do.

However, he hadn’t answered Jane’s question and she was still talking. “If you’re never around and you never ask her how she feels, how can you know that for sure? You—you can’t just assume these things!” There was a slightly hysterical tone to her voice.

Jane was very much upset but she kept going, “Do you know what it’s like, to love someone and hear that they love you back, only to have them _leave_ right after, with promises that they’ll return right away, that they’ll return for you, but when they do, it’s not for you, it’s to go off and save the world, to do—to do more ‘important’ things than see you, even though they **_said_ ** they loved you? And I’m not even saying saving New York from an alien invasion wasn’t important, but he could have at least called, or sent a post card or _something!_

“Do you know what that’s like? It _hurts_. It makes me feel like I’m not—like I’m not important to him, and I start to wonder if he loves me at all and then Darcy sets me up on _dates_ even though I’m not _ready_ and _I still love him_ , even though I’m always wondering if I’m important enough to him and whether he cares.” Her lip trembled and her eyes were watery. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make this about me. I had a point, you know?” She blinked rapidly and swallowed before going on, “I’m not _saying_ it’s the same, and maybe none of this is true for you and your wife, _but how do you know if you don’t ask?_ ”

With her brows knit together, mouth downturned, and eyes still distinctly watery, Jane looked miserable and Howard felt like an ass for making her cry, even inadvertently. Dimly, he wondered how many times he’d made Maria cry over the years, if he’d ever driven her to this point, and how she could possibly still care about him if he had.

Hugging herself, Jane looked so _young_ , younger than Maria when she and Howard had first met. Like he and Maria, Thor was so much older than Jane was. It seems that both Howard and Thor had prioritized work over the relationships and people they cared about deeply.

Howard wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely type, but even he, an emotionally stunted workaholic, could figure out what was warranted in this situation. “Come here,” he said, enveloping her in a] hug. “He cares about you. And he’s coming back soon. Just you wait.”

Jane clutched back, wiping her eyes as she took a shuddery breath. “Thank you. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Howard shook his head, indicating it was nothing. “Do you need me to knock some sense into Thor?” he joked.

She shook her head with a smile. “No, I think we’ll be okay. I chewed him out last night. He promised he would stick around on Earth for a while once he returned and I’m going to hold him to that. I have to wait a bit longer. It’s just hard sometimes.” She smiled again, the light slowly returning to her face. She paused, and then said with conviction, “We’re going to get you back to 1983. And when we do, will you do something for me?”

“What is it?”

“Spend more time with her. Tell her you love her. I know what it feels like, and if she’s anything like me, I bet that it hurts a lot. She's your  _wife_ , Howard. Don’t take the people you love for granted and don't just tell them;  _show_ them that you love them. That’s the only way to keep them close.”

Surprised by her honesty and insightful advice, Howard was silent, contemplating all she had said.  
  
She pressed on, “Promise me you’ll do that for her?”

Howard took a deep breath, nodding. “I will. I promise.” He would try—at least, assuming that’s what his wife wanted. Maria deserved that much from him.

 

That night, after working in the lab with Jane all day, Howard couldn’t stop thinking about Maria. He couldn’t stop wondering if it was as Jane said—that Maria still loved him—or if he was deluding himself, holding onto any glimmer of hope in vain.

Of course, there was nothing he could do about it now, since he was temporarily stuck in the wrong year. Even if he had been around Maria, Howard would have been afraid of asking her directly. No, he’d have to find out discreetly, ask a friend of hers, a friend like—

 _“—Peggy.”_

 

One of Howard’s favorite inventions about the future was the capability of remote video conferencing. He found that it was much more conducive to having a meaningful conversation when he could see the facial expressions of the person on the other end, and though it would never replace, say, an in person business dinner or seal a lucrative deal, he could see the potential for it, holding long distance business meetings with his company’s partners in Tokyo, London, and Paris.

He’d had some experience with it on his second day in the 21st century, video calling Fury from the lab, but his most frequent uses of the technology were the weekly calls with Peggy Carter. It was jarring at first; he knew what Peggy looked like in 1983 and seeing her thirty years older was quite a change. Regardless, no matter her age, Peggy was still Peggy: quick-witted and straight shooting. The first time Howard met her on video screen, it was with Steve, who apparently had weekly video calls with her, too.

“So I have a visitor I’d like you to meet,” Steve had said on Howard’s third day, speaking not to Howard but directly at the computer screen. Howard had been informed that there was a microphone powerful enough to pick up voices but tiny enough not to be seen. “There was, uh, an accident and he’s staying with us in New York for a while until we can sort it out.” Then Steve motioned for Howard to come into frame.

“Hello, Peggy,” Howard had smirked, trying to look confident, even though he was not quite accustomed to the technology yet. “Did you miss me?”

“Howard!” she had cried. “You really _weren’t_ joking!”

“What do you mean I wasn’t joking?”

“About thirty years ago, you came into my office one day and announced that you had gone on a time-travelling stint to the future. I only half-believed you, you know? But you were so insistent, so full of conviction, I humored you. I don’t think I ever really expected to see you, but here you are!”

“And here I was, thinking I would be a surprise! I should have known. Nothing gets past you, old pal.”

The three of them had spent the next hour laughing and catching up with each other, and at the end, Howard had set up a time to call her again.

Since then, Howard found himself calling her more and more frequently, about twice a week. Even if he’d ever admit it aloud, he was a little homesick for the people who mattered to him—Maria, Tony (his Tony), Jarvis, Obadiah, Stark Industries as he knew it, SHIELD. But even 30 years later, Peggy was much the same, a stalwart presence that he found comforting.

And so, as quickly as time zones and reasonable waking hours would allow, here he was, video chatting with Peggy, and skirting around the issue previously raised by Jane as he worked up the courage to ask. Of course, Peggy beat him to the punch.

“Howard! You’re as antsy as a cat on an electric wire. What is it? Come on, out with it,” she admonished after ten minutes of him hemming and hawing.

Talking to the ground, he mumbled, “It’s Maria.”

“You’ll have to speak louder, dear. My hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

“I’ve been thinking about Maria, lately. Did she ever... talk about me to you?”

Peggy’s expression darkened. “Quite a bit. You were not an unfrequent topic of conversation, occasionally accompanied by a good cry.”

Howard winced. It was as he feared; he’d made his own wife cry. Guilt began to gnaw at him. “How come you never said anything to me?”

This time, Peggy raised an eyebrow and stared him down. Even behind a computer screen and an ocean away, Peggy still managed to look imposing, her expression an admonishment in and of itself. “I _did_ , Howard! _Repeatedly_. Have you forgotten how often we used to fight about it? As I recall, around the time you shipped Anthony off to boarding school, we agreed not to discuss how you conducted your relationship with your wife and son. Just because I stopped criticizing you for not spending time with them doesn’t mean that I suddenly approved or that the problem went away, and I certainly heard about it from Maria.”

“Since Tony’s _boarding school?_ She’s been coming to you with this for—”

“—Five years, at least for you, anyway. You may be my friend Howard, but you were a terrible father to Tony and a _rotten_ husband to Maria. She was a _saint_ for putting up with you. Goodness knows why she still loved you, even after all you put her through,” Peggy muttered harshly.

Howard sucked in a breath, mind still caught on that one word. Maria... she still... This whole time, he’d thought...

Peggy shook her head. “She never _once_ cheated on you, did you know that? She had suitors left and right—powerful men, millionaires in their own right, ones who even loved her—but she refused them all. And since _you_ brought this up, I’m going to say this to you once and only once: If you don’t love her anymore, _let her go_. And if you do love her, you’d better _fix this_ when you go back in time, or I’ll never forgive you.”

When he didn’t say anything, Peggy added, “I’m _serious_ , Howard.”

“I know,” he said this time. Howard _wanted_ to do better by Maria, but how? How did you fix a problem like this that had been going on for years? “But I—”

“But _what_?”

Looking directly at the screen, he asked desperately, “How do I do it?”

Her expression softened. “You can start by _spending more time with her_. I know you think work is always important, but you have to learn how to leave your workshop, turn off your mobile, and shut work out some times. For Maria _and_ Tony.”

“Tony?” Howard thought they were just talking about Maria.

“Yes, your son? You don’t pay attention to him enough, either. Back then _or_ now.”

Howard scoffed. “I don’t think he needs it now, Peggy. We can hardly be in the same room as each other without fighting, these days. He set up a schedule so that we _wouldn’t_ have to work together on the time machine.”

Peggy shook her head. “You have to understand, Howard, that Tony grew up wanting your approval, just a minute of your time and attention and encouragement. Your son also grew up learning how to live without his father but that doesn’t mean he _wanted_ it to be that way. What Tony does now and what he wants are two different things _. All_ children need love and praise, no matter their age.”

“I can’t coddle him, Peggy. He’s going to lead—or he is leading—or he was leading, whatever—Stark Industries. He’s gotta be tough for that.”

“There’s a difference between having high expectations of Tony and never _once_ giving him praise,” she retorted sharply. “When was the last time you told him he’d done a good job? Your 13-year-old Tony, I mean.”

Howard opened his mouth to reply, but found that he didn’t know the answer. He hadn’t seen 13-year-old Tony in over a month, not since his son had gone off to MIT in the fall. He’d hardly seen Tony all summer, in fact, as he was in his lab most of the time, busy inventing new missiles for Stark Industries. The only occasion he could remember spending time with Tony was at the Fourth of July celebration that Maria had put together. Howard had told a few stories about Captain America, switching off with Dum-Dum, but Tony hadn’t looked interested at all.

“I thought you loved Captain America,” Howard had said.

Tony had pouted, barely suppressing an eye roll. “I’m not six anymore, Dad,” he’d said and promptly went off to talk to Jan, the Van Dyne’s daughter who was about the same age as Tony.

Beyond that, Howard couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent time with his son. It wasn’t at Tony’s graduation from Phillips Andover, because he’d had a big presentation with the DOD that day to secure funding, and he couldn’t miss it.

He made a face. Okay, maybe Peggy had a point.

She said, “I think sometimes you’re so busy pushing him to do better, be better, that you never stop to tell him what he’s done _well_ so far. He’s a genius, Howard, and you’re the only one who can’t see it. When you’re in the lab with him, working on this—time machine—do you ever stop to think about all that he’s done right? Or do you hone in on the one or two miscalculations he’s made?”

Howard didn’t reply. It was annoying how right she was, but he conceded that she had a point.  
  
“You hate it when I’m right, don’t you?”

“You’re damn right I do!” he rejoined with amusement in his tone. More seriously, “You know, you’re not the only one who keeps telling me to make nice with my son. Steve’s on my case about it, too.” So was Nick, come to think of it.  
  
“And I believe his point is correct.”  
  
“Okay, okay, I got the message.” Howard held up his hands in surrender. He sighed to himself but refrained from protesting any further; he didn’t want to upset Peggy more than he already had.

Peggy started to say something more, but the distinct sound of a doorbell came through over the connection. “That’s my granddaughter,” she explained. “I’ll have to call you back later. Think about what I said, Howard.”

They exchanged their goodbyes and then she rang off, leaving Howard to his thoughts. Not for long, however. A few minutes later, Natasha knocked on the door and entered before he could get up. Howard glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was time to get to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter appears! A big thanks to my reviewers for pushing me along. I haven't decided if the next chapter will feature Howard's discovery of Steve and Tony or not... If not next chapter, the one after that, I promise!


End file.
